


Cat and Mouse

by Alethia



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Courtroom Drama, F/M, Snark, Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-04
Updated: 2005-08-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Law & Order</i> had this totally wrong. A trial was fun. It was a golden opportunity to mess with the heads of the maximum number of people with the minimum amount of effort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat and Mouse

**Author's Note:**

> Set after season 1. Originally posted on LJ [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/145687.html).

Logan was the prosecutor’s first witness, compelled to tell the world how Aaron was Not a Nice Man, Trina’s Big Bad Wolf preying on helpless grandmothers.

If by ‘grandmother’ you meant ‘son.’ And there was no eating involved. At least, none of which he was aware. There could be things he didn’t know.

So Trina’s metaphor kinda sucked, there. He could hardly contain his shock.

“I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” Wow, what a novel concept. This, at least, would be something new in the tired cliché this situation had become.

“Please state your name and spell your last for the record.”

“E-C-H-O-L-” L-U-C-I-F-E-R. Logan’s mind drifted to that whole sins of the father thing.

Actually, that would make a good title for his TV movie: Sins of the Father: The True Story of a Rich Brat with a Murderer-Whore-Star Father.

Logan drifted through the first establishment questions. He could practically hear the audience’s boredom grinding its weight onto Gene’s shoulders. ‘Yes, yes, we all know he’s Aaron Echolls’ son, get to the good stuff, already.’

The greatest sin in Hollywood…

“Did the defendant ever hit you, Logan?” That was like a physical blow to the audience; all the sudden they were perky and buzzing and ooh, listen to the cameras click.

“Objection!” Logan almost smiled, controlled himself in time. He was expected to be a good little boy and tell the nice man what he wanted to hear. Or something.

But still, Aaron’s high-priced attorney sounded so _offended_. Money could buy so many things.

Logan waited as they argued about exceptions and character. Character, what a joke. As if Aaron had any. But oh, how playing so many of them over the years gave him a repertoire from which to choose. These days he seemed stuck on earnest with just a touch of disbelief.

What style.

Not that Aaron’s roles were _good_ characters, mind, but hey. Everybody liked a hero. Apparently that even extended to those actors who played them. Thus the logical result of everyone’s star obsession: a figure could be so revered he could get away with murder.

Well, if it was good enough for OJ…

Legal things settled, the shark-in-chummed-waters prosecutor turned back to him. The case would probably make his career, make him eligible for political office, even.

But. The enemy of my enemy…

“Logan, do you need me to repeat the question?” 

“No, it was somewhat memorable.” Before anyone _else_ could object he moved on. “Yes, _the defendant_ hit me. It was a hobby of his, you know, like stamp collecting or screwing every piece of ass he could find.”

Logan sat back, amused at how the courtroom _erupted_ , Aaron’s phalanx of lawyers leaping to their feet, audience breaking out in furious whispers, cameras furiously snapping away as if they could capture the words and the deeds and the intent behind them just that easily.

_Law & Order_ had this totally wrong. A trial was _fun_. It was a golden opportunity to mess with the heads of the maximum number of people with the minimum amount of effort.

It would be highly entertaining to ask his Calculus teacher to make an equation of all this, use derivatives to find the absolute max. But he might be taking that a bit far…

After much gaveling—and he rally needed to get one of those—and admonishments and scolding about “appropriate language”—because if you swore, then by God the broadcast networks couldn’t use the choice bits and wouldn’t _that_ be a shame—the prosecutor again turned to him. He was a bit red in the face and oh, sorry Gene, was that embarrassing there?

“Logan, could you explain what you meant by that?”

“He hit me with all kinds of things. Belts were preferred, but in a pinch fists would work just as well. I had a favorite—so to speak. Black leather. Anything else tears the skin. There was this one time with an alligator-skin—”

“Objection!” Aww, and he was just getting going.

More legal wrangling, ‘prejudicial’ tossed around like the beach balls at a Neptune High graduation. Oh, how Logan had plans for corn tortillas. _If_ he graduated.

And like that, the legalese became tedious. Logan jiggled his leg. His stomach grumbled. Breakfast had been coffee, alone, stick-in-the-mud prosecutors _insisting_ he be sober for this.

“Did the defendant ever give any reason for this abuse?”

“It must have been something, right? I must have done something to deserve cigarettes put out on my back. Silly me, I could never figure it out.”

Hastily hushed whispers reverberated through the courtroom. Yes, everyone was Shocked and Appalled. Poor, poor Logan.

“All right, Logan, let’s move on—”

“And miss the broken bones and plastic surgery? Man, and we were just getting to the good part.”

That one earned him a rebuke from the judge and Logan just smiled placidly, saying nothing.

“Yes, ah, your medical records have been entered into the court record as Exhibit E. But let’s move on to Lilly Kane. How did you know her?”

“She was my girlfriend.”

It got less fun after that.

***

Veronica’s appearance at his door suggested she’d been watching today’s ‘shocking coverage,’ ‘intimate secrets revealed.’ She wasn’t allowed in the room until her testimony, but it wasn’t like it was hard to find out anything about the trial. Just walk into a supermarket. 

And Veronica Mars had poorer impulse control than even he did. Which was mildly impressive.

The press had been following the case like the pack of crazed jackals they were, slobbering all over themselves at the videos. Because if there was one universal truth about the media, it was that every story was better with pictures. The pornography angle was just frosting.

Logan propped himself up against the doorjamb, reconsidering putting her on the list of the recently-acquired security team. But what the hell. It wasn’t like he was inundated with visitors these days, even enemies-cum-girlfriends-cum…something. And it seemed too much effort to care one way or the other.

“Heya, Ronnie, will your mom let you ride bikes with us today?”

She just blinked back at him with sympathetic eyes, not rising to the bait.

Ugh. How boring.

“Listen, I’m not sure, but I think you could get in trouble for watching stuff about the case. You know, being its star witness or whatever.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you need to apologize to. Try the judge. I’m sure she’d forgive you.”

“Logan—”

He gripped the door handle until his hand _hurt_. “I don’t want your sorrow,” he bit out, harsh. “I don’t want your pity and I don’t want the sympathy in those big eyes of yours. So don’t come here if that’s all you’ve got for me.”

He moved to slam the door, relishing shutting it in this passive-puppy-Veronica’s face. Instead it connected with something solid and stayed open. Dammit. None of his dramatic touches were working these days. Another insult in a too-long stream of them.

‘It’ turned out to be Veronica’s foot. “Oh, did we find our spine? And what _are_ those horrendous things on your feet?”

“My ass-kicking shoes. Purely for the hounds outside the gates, but if you’re in dire need of them, I guess I can make a sacrifice.”

He scoffed. “Like I could fit into those.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his dodge and pushing past him. “But you would look so _pretty_ in them.”

“I’m resisting the urge to pull on a tutu and break out into ‘I Feel Pretty’ on top of the cafeteria tables.” He dimly heard the door shut behind him.

“And that’s a darn shame, let me tell ya.”

“But wait, did I miss Veronica Mars offering to beat me back there? The evolution of a dominatrix, and right in front of me. Fascinating.”

“Sorry, forgot my black bustier,” she called back to him, tossing off a quick smile as she headed for the kitchen.

Aaron had been denied bail. That whole attempted murder of the girl with incriminating evidence thing didn’t sit too well with the judge, despite all of Aaron’s charitable giving.

His lawyers even brought up his “exceedingly generous” half-million dollar donation to the Neptune Food Bank and wouldn’t that have been poetic? If Aaron had gotten out because of one of Logan’s stunts?

“I prefer naked anyway,” he shot back, watching as she grabbed a bottled water from his fridge.

“Help yourself,” he muttered.

“Thanks!” she said brightly. “And I’m intrigued. Do expand on this familiarity you seem to have with sex workers.”

“Looking to join their ranks, Pretty Woman? You could practice. I’m right here; no waiting.”

“And ruin your relationship with your right hand?” she asked, mock-horrified. “I do not condone cheating.”

“But we have an open relationship.”

***

After that Veronica took to showing up at his house every day as the trial progressed. The media were in paroxysms of joy; all sorts of pictures of Veronica started showing up. She’d been a press focus before, but now with the hint that she had some sort of sordid relationship with the son of her would-be killer, well, Logan had never seen anything like it. And he’d grown up in Hollywood.

His testimony just kept going, irritating because he didn’t think he had anything particularly insightful to add. Aaron was a bad man. End of story. How long does it take to get the message across?

At this rate, the trial would keep going ad infinitum.

“Do you know Veronica Mars?” Oh, that was not the best place to go, Gene. Not that the stubborn prick would ever listen. Granted, Logan might have been wasted during that conversation. For the most inexplicable reason, inebriation seemed to make people take him less seriously. Idiots. 

The expectant silence made him aware he might have paused too long there. Whoops! Can’t let them think he was reluctant or guilty or anything.

“Yes,” he said finally, like it was a question that need some serious consideration and a grave answer. At least that was a good cover; mocking everyone was his standard operating procedure.

“How do you know her?”

“We go to the same school.” Yeah, Logan and hundreds of other kids. That’s what Gene got for not taking Logan seriously: stonewalled.

“Anything else?”

Logan smiled, darkly amused at making the process more akin to raking nails down a chalkboard than the ‘easy back and forth’ Gene had tried to cajole Logan into adopting.

The man really didn’t know him very well.

“Was there something else you wanted?” he asked sweet like a sweet thing. A performance worthy of Lilly, if he said so himself.

And wow, Gene actually looked frustrated. Such a shame, having unhelpful witnesses. On your side, even.

“Did you ever date Veronica Mars?”

He shrugged. “For about five seconds. Kids these days,” he added, shaking his head in a ‘deploring the state of America’s youth’ kinda way.

And Gene didn’t like being dismissed? Too bad. Logan had learned casual disdain since _birth_.

“Were you ever taken in for questioning in connection with the Lilly Kane murder case?” What, was this an attempt at _preemption_? No wonder these guys made beans.

“Yes.”

“Do you know who brought you to the attention of the authorities? In the Lilly Kane case,” he clarified, and darn, Logan could have had some fun with that one.

“The illustrious Veronica Mars. But you knew that.”

“So if she was your girlfriend, why did she turn you in?”

“You’d have to ask her.”

“Why were you brought in for questioning in this case?” Aww, Gene was getting good with the targeted questions.

“There were some questions about my alibi.”

“Did you mislead the authorities about your alibi?”

“They might have gotten the wrong impression.” His tone suggested just what he thought of the relative intelligence of those aforementioned authorities. Or lack thereof.

“Why did you mislead them?”

Logan shrugged. “It wasn’t me.”

***

“So, I go to your school, huh?”

Logan shrugged. “Some days. The others are spent on some street corner somewhere. Or so say those nasty rumors I spread.”

“And yet you gave up an even grander soap box, a bigger platform from which to shout your witty barbs.”

“And miss your reaction? That dull flush that starts about here,” he said, pointing to her neck, tracing the air over her body, “and wondering just how far down it goes? It’s all that gets me through the day.”

“Perfect opportunity to rant; no contradiction.”

“But your ability to bite back makes it all worthwhile.”

She mimed biting him. He grinned.

Excellent.

***

“So, why did you lie about your alibi?” his father’s lawyer—Tom, he thought—asked.

“Everybody lied about their alibi,” he said blandly.

“But you really expect us to believe that you drove to the car wash and just sat there? Watching Lilly Kane?”

“Dude, I’m a teenager. We brood.”

“What were you doing in Mexico?” he asked, still using this patronizing, indulgent tone that was really starting to piss Logan off.

He shook is head, smiling. “Being a teenager.”

“Buying drugs?” he asked, just as mild. 

And there was Gene’s cue: “Objection. What possible relevance does this line of questioning have?”

“Goes to character, your honor. Logan Echolls has made some extraordinary claims about the character of his father, an upstanding member of the community. It’s only fair that we consider the source.”

“I’ll allow it,” she agreed, looking at Logan. “You may answer the question.”

“Define a drug,” Logan said simply, smirking. Good old Bill Clinton. Such a wonderful role model. Logan was pleased he could put these valuable lessons to good use.

“Fine then. Did you buy any substance that the DEA currently lists as controlled in the United States but is readily available in Mexico?”

This was so going to suck.

***

“Oh, are you still allowed to talk to me? Considering I’m an alcoholic, unpredictable, drug-addict, and oh yeah, I stole a pack of gum once when I was ten.”

“You got away with petty larceny? You dastardly criminal mastermind, you.”

The tightness in his throat eased a little and he let a slight smile show, opening the door wider. He should just give her a key or whatever. She was here most of the time anyway.

Logan wandered back to his living room, lifting up his abandoned bottle and offering it. Such a gentleman, he was. “Drink?”

“I’m good. And I think you are, too,” she said, taking the bottle. He didn’t resist. What was the point?

“Aw, c’mon Veronica, I’m celebrating. It’s not every day I get all my indiscretions thrown back at me. It’s a momentous occasion.” He tipped back and onto the couch, liking the rush the move sent to his head. He idly scratched his fingers up and down his stomach.

“Not every day? I must be losing my touch.”

He grinned fondly, liking the way she was all fuzzy around the edges. Decision made, Logan grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto him and into a sloppy, inelegant kiss. 

Mmmm, tasted good. Still, not his finest work there.

She didn’t pull away, even gave in after a surprised beat, kissing him back oh-so-carefully, brimming with hesitance he found utterly hilarious.

When she pulled back her mouth was red, lipstick smeared and lips flushed. She breathed in and he could feel it against his chest. Nice. “This is the worst idea ever,” she said, matter-of-fact.

“I don’t know, I think not taking Duncan with you counts somewhere up there,” he said, slurring only slightly. He was proud of that. And she didn’t seem to be resisting so he shrugged and pulled her back, finding her lips again. 

His tongue in her mouth was achingly familiar.

***

“You and Lilly got into a lot of fights, didn’t you?”

“Everyone fights,” he said dismissively.

“Why did you fight?”

“Someone hasn’t been paying attention in our review sessions. What did we learn yesterday, class? I’m a teenager. Keep up, man.”

He smiled, actually amused and willing to indulge Logan’s behavior. Or so it seemed. Nice. License. “Is that your excuse for everything?”

“Would that make your life easier, Tom? Because I am here for _you_ , my friend. Though that friend thing may be exaggerating just a tad,” he said, holding up his fingers to illustrate.

“Mr. Echolls, you will respect this court,” the judge rebuked sharply, sound not unlike a shrieking harpy.

He kept that opinion to himself, but it was a close thing.

“So, you fought. Did it ever get violent?” 

“No.”

“No? Never? Not once?”

“That’s generally the accepted definition of ‘no.’”

“So what happened when you fought?”

“Lilly’s standard was to run away and cheat on me. She preferred the emotional kick in the balls.”

“And you?”

“I’m a master wordsmith, in case you missed that. I prefer to verbally destroy someone’s will to live.”

“But that’s not entirely true, is it?”

“I seem to remember my fourth grade teacher telling me there was an exception to every rule. But if you know any different, I’m sure Miss D would love to hear about it.”

Tom just went right on, ignoring his barbs. Lawyers. “Do you know someone named Chardo Navarro?”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “He went to my school.”

“Didn’t he, in fact, have a relationship with one of your former girlfriends, Caitlin Ford? And this was while you were still dating?”

“‘Relationship’ is such an interesting word.”

“Oh, excuse me, he was sleeping with her, correct?” he asked, definite bite there. Maybe not so impervious to Logan’s snide insults, then. The thought made him ridiculously pleased.

“I guess that’s what I get for dating vacant sluts,” he said with a grim smile.

Tom actually cracked a half-smile at that one, too, and careful, man. It’d be inconvenient if you started _liking_ the patsy you were so obviously setting up.

“And you found out about their affair?”

“Yes.” God, this was boring. And transparent. Logan was kind of insulted he wasn’t being framed with more skill.

“And what action did you taken when you found this out?”

“Well, I was at lunch, so I guess I went to fifth period.” Tom _really_ deserved those snickers emanating from the back of the room. He made it so _easy_.

“I’ll rephrase. What action did you take to resolve the situation with Mr. Navarro and Ms. Ford?”

Oh, fine, if you insist. “I _planned_ on kicking the crap out of him. Alas, foiled again.”

“And do you also know Agent Ben Kominsky, formerly of the ATF?”

Logan clasped his hands together and smiled, sitting back. “Oh, you mean that guy who was booted out of the ATF for trying to frame an innocent student? Yeah, I was acquainted with him. Stellar human being.”

“So glad you approve. Didn’t you, in fact, assault him on the way to his apartment?” Oooh, they had some good research people. Maybe even a private eye. Veronica was so hearing about this.

“As he was forcing a woman to accompany him, oh by the way, at _gunpoint_.”

“That woman being one Veronica Mars?”

“Yes.”

“You might want to stay away from her, Logan. She gets you in a world of trouble.”

“Objection!”

“Don’t I know it.”

***

Logan had _not_ expected Veronica to show after the last…incident, make-out session, drunken fumbling, whatever.

Nope, that was it for her. Veronica Mars, whose default setting was ‘Run When Scared,’ who was the most tentative aggressive person, like, ever. But Logan knew all about aggressive and he’d played her masterfully last time.

So standing on his doorstep kinda stumped him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Oh, just passing by. I saw the big house and invitingly-open gates and thought I’d stop in for a cuppa.”

“My kind of talk.” Logan opened the door wider, all kinds of invitation. “Join the party.” Yes, he could amuse himself with her for a bit, take a nice bite out of the monotony. There were unanticipated consequences to his decision to eschew all things media-related.

“Party of two?” she asked, arch.

“Beats _Party of Five_ ,” he shrugged.

“‘Cause that’s so hard to do.”

“Neve Campbell will be crushed.”

“Close personal friend?”

“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” Not when there were _so many other reasons_ …

Veronica got that serious look, then, that one she got when she was about to say something he wasn’t going to like. So, obviously, he had to head her off.

Pushing her back against the kitchen table seemed like a good plan at the time; tongue in her mouth was an even better one.

“Mmm, you’re just trying to distract me.”

“Listen, I’m just playing with you.”

“Ah, romance. Alive and well.” But he could tell from the tension that he’d hit something with that one. Which was kinda the point.

He broke off his exploration of her neck to pull back, but left his fingers under her shirt. “Yeah, you want hearts and flowers I’m sure Duncan would be happy to oblige.”

Veronica simply tilted her head back and Logan smirked at her, pulling her shirt up.

Well, if she felt like making it easy for him.

***

The day Veronica took the stand was the first time he’d seen her in court. She looked tinier, somehow, behind the wood of the witness stand, and everyone seemed to be treating her with hesitance. Gene was fidgeting with the uncertainty of it all until he finally resolved something in his sorry excuse for a brain and got some control.

Of course, at that point his manner suggested that Veronica Mars was no big deal and that was mistake number one. The peasant should know better than to underestimate her; Logan had certainly learned that lesson.

But then, the diminutive blonde routine did get so many men’s protective instincts up, guards lowered. All part of her charm.

Logan noted that Aaron was looking at her with this—most-assuredly affected—pleading, confused hurt look. Logan scoffed mentally, critiquing those stellar acting skills by rote.

It was probably too much to hope the jury did the same.

Not that it affected Veronica much, either way; she wasn’t even looking at Aaron. No, her sight was fixed unwaveringly on him and when it clicked what she was doing, well, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t narrow his eyes and lift his chin. The picture of defiance.

Veronica Mars wasn’t going to be breaking his will anytime soon.

He watched as her attention was torn away by the court proceedings, Gene easing her into questions with softball fluff that even made Logan want to gag, just to rid himself of the cloying sweetness.

Yes, her life was one big tragedy. Big deal. Everybody had problems.

“Veronica, do you know Logan Echolls?” Gene asked, and it looked like he’d decided to go with the gentle father route for her. It didn’t quite fit, though, not when Logan knew the real thing so well. Anything would come off as inferior if you’d witnessed Keith Mars in action and Logan repressed a twinge at that.

He refused to be so pathetic as to envy Veronica Mars in any way.

“Yes, he—I—we were friends, when all this started.” Oooh, telling slip there, V. How do you categorize an ex-friend, ex-boyfriend, quasi-mortal enemy, innocent accused-killer with whom you were now messing around? 

_Feel_ the melodrama.

Her eyes had strayed to him after that, looking like she wanted something and what? Did she expect him to _help_?

Logan stared back passively, not giving her much. Or anything at all.

“And do you also know Aaron Echolls?”

Her eyes darkened, but they didn’t look away from Gene, not even a flicker in Aaron’s direction. “Yes.”

“Have you seen any of his movies?”

“Sure.”

“Have an opinion of them?”

“Besides that they’re violently pseudo-pornographic consumerist schlock?”

Gene started at the vehemence there, crowd rumbling behind him. Ahh, there was the Veronica he knew and loved to torment. She was doing an admirable job at not letting out her pissed-at-the-world expression. Too bad Logan knew her better.

“Yes, ahem, well—that’s. So you’re not much of a fan, then?” Oh, that was just—Logan had to squeeze his hands into fists to keep from applauding the worst recovery ever in _the history of the world_. Even Veronica looked like she wanted to throw a shoe at the man.

“Not so much,” she said, failing abysmally at not patronizing him. And at that Logan couldn’t help but break out a cynically-amused smile.

Where’d the fatherly treatment get you, Gene?

“Do you have a job, Veronica?”

“Yes, I help out at Mars Investigations.”

“So you’re a private eye, then?” Mmm, all she needed were some heels, a short skirt, and a gun and she’d fulfill just about any man’s fantasy.

Not that _he_ was thinking such things.

“I help out.”

“Did you take an interest in the Lilly Kane case?”

She narrowed her eyes, looking at him like he was a couple steps behind everyone else. “Of course.”

“Did you agree with your father, Keith Mars, that there was more to the case?”

Slight pause and Logan regarded her, watched thoughts flit through her eyes. “Eventually, yes.” Oooh, story there.

“Did you investigate the case yourself, on your own time?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Because she didn’t know how to mind her own damn business. Come to think, she’d make a great paparazzi. He’d have to suggest it to her; it would be such a step up in the world.

“Because Lilly was my best friend and I refuse to let her murderer walk free.”

“Did you have any suspects?”

“Yes.”

“Who were they?”

“Jake Kane, Celeste Kane, and Duncan Kane, among others.” One big, happy family.

“Logan Echolls?”

Her eyes briefly strayed to him, an emphasis. “At the end.” Dude, was that supposed to mean something to him?

“Aaron Echolls?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“At the time he didn’t seem to have a motive.” Gosh if only they’d all guessed he was a manslut with a wandering eye and no sense of self-restraint. 

But, oh, wait…

“Did you ever give the Sheriff any information about the case?”

“Yes. I told Sheriff Lamb that Logan lied about his alibi.” 

“And this was while you were dating?” Gee, rub it in, Gene.

“Yes.”

“How’d that go over with Logan?”

Logan rolled his eyes. Yes, yes, tell the rapt audience all about how Logan lost it when he found out his girlfriend thought him capable of murder. Relevance to the case? Who cares?! This is high-quality drama here.

Veronica hesitated, eyes darting to him again. “He was a little upset,” she said, trying to inject some dryness in her tone, distance herself from it. Logan would strip that away, later.

“How upset?” Oh, happy day, Gene wasn’t letting her get away with that one. Maybe he _had_ learned something about the illustrious Veronica Mars in these few short months.

“Upset enough to break up with me.” 

Logan snorted under his breath. He was pretty sure accusing your boyfriend of murder constituted ending the relationship but whatever. He’d take the blame. He could handle that on top of everything else.

“Did you believe Logan did it?”

“I—it was a possibility.”

“But you weren’t sure?”

“No.” So, obviously, the best course of action was to turn him in and accuse him of murder. Because if you’re not sure, well, who really cares about inconvenient things like certainty anyway?

“And you gave this information to the Sheriff anyway.”

“Yes.” Her eyes were on him and he purposefully ignored her. He buffed his nails on his sleeve, tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair.

“Why?” _That_ caught his attention; he looked up, wanting to see this.

“It was relevant. I’d promised to find Lilly’s killer, no matter who it was.” Veronica looked half-defiant and half-apologetic and the effect was—well, Logan rolled his eyes.

“Even if it was your boyfriend?”

“Even then,” she answered softly, looking back at Logan with something that could have been sadness in her eyes. Oh, please. What, like he was going to jump up and proclaim his forgiveness, deeply moved by her _pain_?

He looked away.

“Did you think he murdered Lilly?” Yeah. Keep on her, Gene. Maybe the class will actually _learn something_.

“I thought it was a possibility,” she said softly.

Ouch. And it shouldn’t hurt but, man…

“Do you think Logan Echolls is capable of murder?” Objection…

Maybe not. C’mon, that was _so_ speculation, even _Logan_ knew it was and all _his_ legal training came from Dick Wolfe and David E Kelley.

“No,” she said, more firmly.

“But you accused him of it?”

“I was wrong.” She didn’t even look at Gene, instead pinning Logan with her _sincerity_.

He just stared back, not giving an inch.

***

Logan was entirely unsurprised to hear the knock at the door that evening. Hell, he’d been waiting for it, lounging in the sitting room and watching the oh-so-gleeful coverage on all the major news networks. And the entertainment channels. And the cooking channel, though he really didn’t want to know about that one.

Yes, his ban on the media had lasted all of a couple days. What a shock. Besides, the stuff was addictive. And he was cataloging to whom his father’s publicist had been feeding the family pictures. That could be useful someday.

It was entirely expected of Veronica and she’d probably hate to think she was getting _predictable_. Logan didn’t even bother to greet her, just opened the door and walked away, leaving it to her whether or not to follow.

She did.

Routine. People loved routine and this had become one of hers. Stopping by to see him after their day in court and today it’d ended on a sadly anti-climactic note, with that profession that she’d do anything to solve the case.

As if that were some sort of surprise.

He wandered up to his bedroom, absurdly still holding the damn remote, feeling as much as hearing Veronica behind him. When he stopped in the middle of his room she came to stand behind him, for once quiet.

And now that she was, it irritated him. He wanted her to bitch and whine. Not this.

He whirled on her. “What, you couldn’t even make up your own mind and turned me in anyway? When did you become a girl?” he asked, knowing it was a sad try, but having to _try_.

It worked, though, and he _did_ know her. “At least I was trying to find her real killer instead of just believing what other people told me.”

“You don’t even have enough backbone to know what to believe,” he scoffed, amusing himself with the flush that’d started to wind its way down her neck.

“I was trying to—mph!”

Now that she was good and mad, there was no reason not to pull her close, cut her off with his tongue. Logan was very aware that his hands were fisting in her jacket and he didn’t care. He kissed her like he always wanted to, rough and hot, tongue twisting with hers in a way that made her slump against him, though her nails digging into his shoulders were forceful enough.

Her jacket was off before they even got to the bed and it was easy enough to pull her shirt up, out of her demure little skirt and mmm, how thankful he could be for the small things. He’d been anticipating this all day, had shucked the suit the moment he’d gotten home, trading it for cargos and a t-shirt.

Logan’s hand on her thigh was far too easy and she made a surprised sound at the back of her throat, turning into a moan as he inched higher, mouth never letting her up for air. He kissed her until she was gasping and grinding up against him, either unaware or uncaring about her skirt carelessly shoved up around her waist.

His fingers were already playing against her, pressing against sensible panties in all the places that made her squirm. And she was getting better at that, moving against him.

Practice makes perfect…

He got one of her legs out of her panties and really, that was all he needed so he ignored the other, breaking off their kiss to spend some quality time scraping teeth along her nipple as his fingers relished their freedom to play around inside her, unimpeded.

Veronica writhed against him, trying to make his fingers go where she wanted, unsuccessful considering he had size and leverage on her.

“Logan,” she whined, high in her throat, and fine. If she was gonna be like that. He twisted his fingers again and brought his thumb to trace around her clit and she shuddered, pushing her hips up. “Oh, God,” she breathed, sill trying to get more.

“And finally, you’ve discovered my real name,” he murmured, mouth leaving her nipple and moving in between her breasts, down her stomach. He skipped over the skirt and shifted himself further down the bed, ignoring the scrape of his cock against his pants, the mattress.

“You—” Whatever she was going to say—probably not something very nice and that wasn’t polite, when he was being so nice to _her_ —as cut off on her gasp, the way her entire body tensed when she felt the first swipe of his tongue against her clit. 

He softened it as she breathed out, remembering how to breathe, apparently, and pressed herself against him. Around and around and Logan was well-aware that she was shaking, gasping his name. He took pity and stopped teasing, repeatedly flicking his tongue over her clit, right where she wanted him, enough to finally make her lose it, arch against him and still, muscles flexing around the fingers still inside her.

Logan closed his eyes, breathed, didn’t think too hard on how it would feel to be inside when that happened. Refused to go there, pulling his fingers out even as she collapsed back to the bed, chest moving up and down with her rapid breathing.

Logan pulled back, got his feet on the floor and forced himself to stand look down on her. She was a mess, skirt still bunched up—probably a mess of wrinkles what with heat and sweat—legs splayed, underwear dangling off one calf, bra just pushed out of the way.

If there were a picture that could be labeled Trailer Trash, this was it and the words were on the tip of his tongue, just begging to be released—but he couldn’t. 

And he hated himself for that weakness.

Veronica finally opened her eyes, saw him standing there watching her, and had the good-girl sensibility to blush.

Logan backed away, just a step, but she got the message nonetheless. “Logan,” she said lowly, voice all husky and tempting. But no. “Want me to—that,” she said vaguely, gesturing to his pants and where he was visibly hard, the want sweeping over him forcefully with that reminder.

He snorted, shook his head. “You can’t even say it. Why would I want you to do it?” he asked, harsh and unyielding. He saw her face start to crumple but didn’t let himself dwell, just walked away, toward the bathroom, leaving her behind.

***

Logan was amazed at how good she was at regaining her composure. Really, an outsider wouldn’t even notice the haunted look in her eyes, the quick way they darted to him and then away.

Aww, he’d gotten her all messy and dirty and it didn’t even show. Such a shame the world could never appreciate his version of high art.

“You visited Abel Koontz in jail, didn’t you?” Oh, right. Trial of his murdering bastard of a father. Might be cause to stop thinking about how easy it was to break his toys, when he put his mind to it.

Pathetic, really.

“Yes.”

“And under what name did you visit him?”

“Ellen White.”

“Just to be clear, that is not your real name, correct?”

“Correct.”

“So, you lied.”

“I prefer to call it taking creative license.” She’d started to get back into it, focus herself. And wow, Logan actually distracted her. Something to keep in mind.

“You lie a lot, don’t you Ms. Mars?”

“Define a lot.” Logan snorted under his breath. Original.

“Objection!”

“It’s a simple statement of fact, your honor. Ms. Mars has a habitual problem with telling the truth.”

“His question is prejudicial, based on supposition, need I go on?”

“Rephrase?”

“Proceed. But don’t try my patience Mr. Westerfield.” The judge actually looked harried, like she was sick of the circus, probably thinking of what’d happened to Judge Lance Ito.

“Do you lie often, Ms. Mars?”

“People would be less inclined to tell me things if I said, ‘Hi, I’m Veronica Mars of Mars Investigations.’” But what if she wore a nurse’s uniform? Logan could think of all sorts of fun ways to get information out of people, especially when they involved lots of zippers and excessively high heels.

There was a flaw in this plan, Veronica Mars.

“So, you lie to get what you want.”

“That’s not a—”

“And don’t you desperately want Lilly’s _real_ killer to go to jail?”

“Don’t _you_ desperately want to keep him out?” Logan watched her flush, shifting only slightly. Hell, lots of things turned him on, but Veronica in full bitch mode? Nothing quite compared.

He probably would’ve worried about that if he were, you know, the worrying type. As it was, so not even on his radar. He had more important things to consider. Like if he wanted peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and banana. All these choices.

“And wouldn’t you do anything to put that man in jail?”

“Absolutely.”

“Have you ever been wrong, Ms. Mars?” Logan resisted the urge to be the brown-noser raising his hand. But dude. He could so field that one.

“It’s been known to happen.”

“In fact, didn’t you think it was Logan Echolls who killed Lilly?”

“I was wrong.”

“You sure _this_ time? You didn’t make another mistake?” Siding with the defense was also a bad idea. Hell, Logan should just stay neutral. Then he could be like Switzerland and appear all innocent but really harbor a deep resentment for, you know, everybody.

As plans went…

“Logan didn’t try to kill me.” Too bad; she could have added him to her collection.

“Do you think highly of yourself, Ms. Mars?”

“I know my abilities.” Yeah, she was grade-A at digging nails into shoulders and pleading to God. Logan wondered if the court would find that relevant.

Probably.

Tom continued as if he hadn’t heard. “That must be true, right? A teenage girl so important that Aaron Echolls, a movie star, would even notice.”

“He noticed Lilly all right.” Maybe he should get her a scope. So she could aim _just a little more squarely_ next time.

“Do you always get your man, Ms. Mars?” Logan resisted the urge to laugh. Not last night, anyway.

“So far.”

“No matter the price?”

“No matter the price.”

***

Logan _didn’t_ expect her to show after that. She’d said what she meant. He’d heard her loud and clear.

“What more do you want?” he asked, clipped, not even letting her open with any kind of greeting. And she looked more defiant, as if today’s grilling had calcified her resolve.

Great. Veronica Mars and her righteous vengeance.

Wasn’t there _anything_ new out there?

She pushed past him, turning on him as he shut the door. “You to rein in your exponentially expanding ego and rejoin the rest of us peons in the real world.” 

“Haven’t you heard? Perception is reality. And boy do I play well on TV.”

“What do you want from me, huh? You want me to dress in sackcloth and ashes and roam around bemoaning my shame?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“I screwed up. It’s a feeling with which you’re not entirely unfamiliar, Bum Fight Grand High Poobah, 2004. So give me a break.”

But—fuck. Not the same thing at all, not that it would matter. Oh, hell. Zeus should just strike him down now with bolts of lightning from on high; then he’d be spared the melodramatic teen angst-fest.

It _was_ Neptune. It could happen.

“Should I have gotten a crown with that title? Because I didn’t and I’m seriously considering lodging a formal complaint with the International Bum Fight Federation.” He swung his hands out, knocking his fists together lightly. She didn’t look mollified.

“I’m not perfect; I don’t pretend to be.” Ah, hell. He didn’t want to have to actually _talk_ about this.

Well, she was much more _resilient_ than he’d expected. He’d expected at least a week of furtive glances, possibly some aborted phone calls. If he’d been lucky she might even have fled the state.

But, no. Veronica was feeling _ornery_. 

She kept looking at him expectantly and, “What?” he asked, uncomfortable feeling messing up his annoyance.

“Don’t you have anything to _say_?”

He shrugged. “Pad Thai?”

She glared at him. “Is that an _offer_?”

“Yes?”

She sighed, shaking her head. And oh, what was this? Was that a smile lifting the corners of her mouth?

Why yes, yes indeed. 

“You’re buying.”

Was that it? Did he really get out of that by offering food? Man, if all he had to do was feed her…

And it looked like she felt like sticking around. Logan shrugged and pulled out his phone. He could deal.

***

**Epilogue**

It was Mexican and mocking the talking heads on TV. Apparently Aaron was guilty and going to fry, except for the part where he was innocent and would be righteously vindicated. Oh, and you couldn’t forget the one where the jury came back hung and they’d have to do it all over again.

Logan was just _waiting_ for that one.

But they’d all settled the fact that Logan was an abused child and his every ill was because of that. It was so convenient. Proving again how soulless everyone was, now he had a ready-made excuse. That _everyone_ would _believe_.

Unfortunately Veronica did not fare so well. Popular sentiment had her at two for ‘ho, two for schizophrenic, one for victimized while three held neutral. _Neutral_. Pussies.

“I feel like I’ve been put through a meat grinder, seasoned, and set out for dinner.”

Logan bit her shoulder. “Tastes like chicken.” He smacked his lips next to her ear.

She smacked him. “Hey! This is not _Stranger in a Strange Land_.”

“Does that mean I can’t grok you?” he asked against her mouth, fingers sliding up her thigh.

She laughed, once. “That is so wrong.”

“But is it right?” He moved his lips to her neck, his teeth scraping along the skin there.

“I think I’ll reserve judgment.”

Logan pulled back with an exaggerated slurp. “A wise choice, Oh Fair One.”

She was in his lap before he got out the last word.

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


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